


The Definition of You and Me

by thatfilmgirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Also Hook/Aurora, F/M, I want to know what defines 'strong female character', because Aurora is damn strong, because they are awesome, haters to the left
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfilmgirl/pseuds/thatfilmgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What defines a princess? What defines a prince?  When surrounded by fierce warrior women, where does the softer sort fit in? When surrounded by noble men more deserved of a princess' hand than yours, what makes you worthy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story is set post-curse, post-show, however you'd like to put it.
> 
> I'd like to give a huge thanks to snakesandadders for her incredible help with this story. This would not be posted if it weren't for her unwavering and continued support. Also, I could go into a lot of meta about what I'm trying to explore with this story but I hope that you all can just pick that up from what I write and we can have a nice long author's note at the end of it all.
> 
> Enjoy.

There was a time in Princess Aurora's life where she would've delighted in a ball thrown in her honor. She'd float across the dance floor with her feet never touching the ground. She'd gossip with courtiers and flirt and be sweet and she'd go to bed late into the night knowing that she had done her duties, fulfilled her obligations, and made her parents proud. That's what a princess was supposed to do after all. Smile and dance and laugh at the appropriate moments.

Sometimes she wanted to scream.

 _"A fierce queen is a dead queen,"_ her mother would say. _"As long as they underestimate you, they won't see you coming."_

There wasn't that sort of intrigue in Snow White's court and it was admittedly difficult to get used to the change. To have the sudden freedom to be herself after a lifetime of pretending was a difficult adjustment and a surprisingly exhausting one. Not long into the night, Aurora found herself moving away from conversation and sought refuge out on the balcony. Spring was in the air; Aurora could smell the blooming life from the mountains and woods that surrounded Starlight Lake and the castle of Snow White.

As lovely as the view was, Aurora felt an ache as she thought of a different scene. One of mountains free of snow, of a desert land as far as the eye could see. Of course there were stars here, the same ones she looked at from her bedroom window, but the world wasn’t half as vast as it has seemed in Ishtar. Yet Aurora had never quite understood how big it was under the stars. The Enchanted Forest alone was massive with more little kingdoms dotting the landscape than she could count.

What a lovely way to spend her birthday; reminiscing about things long lost, dreaming as she once did.

There was no longer a place for dreams.

"Aurora?"

Snow White appeared by her side, concern etched on her lovely face and she touched Aurora's elbow. "Are you not enjoying the party?"

"Oh! I am," she hurriedly reassured her friend with a smile. "I was just thinking about how the last time I had a party thrown in my honor, I ended up asleep for thirty years." Snow's look turned wry when she caught onto the joke and the dark-haired queen shook her head.

"From what my father told me about other kingdoms, our idea of a party is a little different I take it?"

Aurora shrugged a little. "It's a different land but it's been years. It's gone.” She paused for a second, “I suppose it doesn't matter." She tilted her chin up, straightening against the railing. It's what she always did, wasn't it? Continue on with her chin held high. "I'll find a new place in the world and all will turn out fine. It always does."

She couldn't stand to see the look of pity in Snow's eyes. While she knew that it came from a genuine place, long learned lessons of never showing such emotion in public (for privacy was always a false comfort) had her chafing at it. None of it showed on her face – Aurora's look remained pleasant.

Maybe she never did stop playing. The game had only changed.

"Have you heard from Emma and Mulan?" She didn't bother to hide the obvious change in subject but Aurora was genuinely curious. The two of them couldn't be any more different but Emma's blunt pragmatism was so familiar to her that she couldn't help but develop a liking for her. As Philip's death became a more distant event, he hung less and less between the two women, allowing them to develop a more genuine friendship.

It was nice to be surrounded by a new family but as much as she loved them all dearly and appreciated their friendship, it could be stifling, how protective they all could be.

Before Snow White could answer there was a polite cough and the two women looked over their shoulders. David stood there looking dashing in his formal clothes and Aurora saw Snow White glow from the corner of her eyes. She felt a twist in her chest. Aurora recognized that look that David was giving his wife and the one she returned. Her and Philip had looked at one another that way.

“I’m sorry to interrupt--” David began apologetically but Aurora held up a hand.

“No, it’s fine. I imagine you were looking for your wife.” Snow squeezed Aurora’s shoulder and still looked concerned but she wouldn’t have any of it. “Go on. You went to so much work on this, you should enjoy it.”

“And so should you,” Snow pointed out in that motherly tone, so different from Aurora’s own mother.

“I will, I promise.” She willed Snow White to understand without her having to voice the words and the Queen seemed to because she pulled Aurora into a tight hug. She returned it with a whispered ‘thank you’ and watched the happy pair go back into the bright light of the hall.

She watched them vanish into the crowd and light and an ache settled over her. Aurora turned her face back up to the starlit sky and tried to resist wrapping herself back in that blanket of pain that she had kept for so long.

Her last birthday...

She remembered watching them all arrive. Courtiers and noblemen. Advisers and her brothers. Phillip. Phillip... so handsome in his livery with his eyes just for her. Phillip whom she’d grown to care for over the years of their arranged betrothal. Aurora had loved him and he had loved her and it was that love that caught her thoughts. Yes, his kiss had woken her from the curse but what was true love, really? She remembered Emma had explained how she’d broken the curse in Storybrooke. She’d woken her son from his own cursed sleep. That was true love, the love of a parent for their child.

Was the love she had for Philip one of someone dear to her? Had it been truly the love of the one she was meant to be with? He’d loved Mulan but it was his loyalty and love for her that brought him to her tomb. Aurora sighed. Love was complicated, multifaceted like the jewels of her father’s crown and thinking about it just made her confused.

 _Just like Killian_ , a voice in her head suddenly muttered. Aurora groaned audibly and leaned against the railing. Killian Jones. Captain Hook. The dreaded pirate who’d in the end had helped save everyone. The one who said things to infuriate her then turn around and said something ridiculously thoughtful to cheer her up. He was on Snow White and David’s council, just like her, which meant that their time was spent together more often than not and Aurora finally admitted to herself that perhaps things... perhaps things would progress with them. It was different with him. There were no shy glances and sweet gifts and chaste kisses with Killian. It was nothing like Phillip. It was different.

It was fire hot in her veins. It was the unbidden desire for him to trace her jawline when he pushed a lock of hair off her face. It was this ache low in her belly that she’d never felt before whenever she’d sense his eyes on her or meet his gaze. It was want. A fierce and confusing want for this man she couldn’t discern. Killian wasn’t just a pirate who liked making her blush. He made her laugh. He looked at her for opinions on things when the others forgot that she wasn’t just a princess bred to be a fashion doll or ornament on a king’s arm. He saw _her_.

Shaking her head, Aurora took a final look at the the view of the snow capped mountains and turned back towards the ballroom. There would be time enough to think of those things later.

 

 

 

Killian Jones, once known as the fearsome Captain Hook, was attending a royal party and wondering when his life turned out this way. A name for himself or not, he wasn't really anyone, was he? Son of a merchantman from a far off shore and a mother of no real standing whatsoever. A bastard child who'd run off to play sailor and look for fabled buried treasure. He shook his head, refusing to acknowledge those memories and instead focused on his goblet. He was finally starting to feel the effects of it and Killian suspected that the refreshments weren't supposed to have this much of a kick to it.

He tugged on his red coat in annoyance. This was why he belonged on his ship. There were no places to be had on advisement councils and there was no need to dress up to parties thrown for spoiled, frustrating, enticing little princesses who always gave him that look. That exasperated, 'I know you can do better' look that he really, _really_ didn't like. Yet there he was, albeit standing in the shadows of the Great Hall watching said princess drift through the sea of guests with that smile on her face.

"You should go talk to her."

Killian side-eyed David who'd spoken with that equally insufferable smirk on his face. "You make me sound like a schoolboy at his first formal, mate." David just kept giving him that smirk and Killian wondered how much trouble he'd get into for hitting the King on the head with his goblet and decided that it really wasn't worth it at the moment. "Why would _I_ go talk to _her_?"

"You've got the hand, right? Ask her to dance."

Killian's eyes flicked to the clockwork-powered hand he'd commissioned from Gepetto not long ago. It still felt strange being able to do things with it. A combination of magic and science, he was told and while it didn't look much like a real hand, it was a step in the right direction. Maybe. He was still trying to decide that.

Change. It never boded well for pirates.

Sighing, he lowered his goblet enough to properly look at David. The other man was incorrigible, much like his wife and daughter and annoyingly enough like that princess. "That would be assuming that I'd want to dance with said strumpet.” He settled back into the wall. “I'm quite fine over here, thank you."

David crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels and Killian knew that man was getting much amusement out of this. He looked away and out to the dance floor and his grip tightened on the goblet when he saw Aurora be pulled into a strange man's arms. Her smile was bright and her laugh echoed over the music and he didn't care. Not at all. He didn't care a bit and besides he didn't like dancing to begin with.

Dammit. “Take this,” he snapped and shoved the goblet at David and started weaving his way through the crowd towards Aurora. Halfway to her the room swayed a little and he paused. So that wine definitely had a kick. He waited for a few pairs to twirl past him before weaving over to where Aurora was and tapped the man on the shoulder. Ah, the good Doctor. He should've suspected.

“Might I cut in, your majesty?” Victor's eyes narrowed and Killian replied with a perfectly innocent smile. At least, his version of innocent. He could feel Aurora's eyes darting between the two of them. “Don't you have some corpse to reanimate or whatever it is that you do in your spare time?”

The doctor's eyes flicked down to his prosthetic hand with his own look. “The last thing I worked on in my spare time was that hand of yours. I was considering making some improvements but I've been so overworked I thought a nice dance with Aurora was just what the doctor ordered. She was quite on her own and I couldn't let that stand.”

Killian felt his smile broaden, tightening at the dig. There was a whir as mechanical fingers clenched. He would not punch the man. He wouldn't. Not here, not in front of Aurora. Suddenly the Blue Fairy was there smiling sweetly. “Doctor Frankenstein, I was looking everywhere for you.”As predicted the man's attention was immediately grabbed by the low neckline of the fairy's dress and her demure smile. “We were having a discussion on the applications of electricity and could use your expertise.”She looked at Aurora apologetically. “I am sorry, majesty. Do you mind?”

Aurora had been quiet during the exchange and with all attention on her she shook her head minutely but looked downcast. “Well, I suppose. I will be sure to find you again, Doctor.” She smiled at the blonde and suddenly Killian and Aurora were left alone and her sweet look had turned unamused and rather annoyed. “That was incredibly rude,” she hissed but nonetheless she took his good hand in hers and he rested his mechanical one on her waist and off they went as a new song struck up.

He couldn't help but look down at her, relish in the feel of her slight frame against his. He was thankful her dress wasn't as full as the other gowns. It was easier to pull her closer without the cloud of delicate cloth getting in between them. She looked up at him, met his gaze with an assessing eye. “Why are you so jealous?”

The question caught him off guard and his good hand tightened around her delicate fingers. “I'm not jealous, I just haven't gotten to dance with you.”

“You could've waited your turn,” she rebuked mildly and he stepped away to twirl her. The feathered layers of white organza brushed against his legs when she spun, reminding him of that lavender dress she wore all those months ago.

“I didn't think it would lead to anything good leaving you in his presence,” he countered and pulled her back, pressing her closer than she'd been before. Aurora's eyes widened in surprise and she let out a tiny gasp as their bodies pressed together. “He'd only try to get under that pretty dress of yours.” It was crude to be sure and while he delighted in offending her delicate sensibilities to varying degrees, it was fueled in fun, not anger. Not jealousy as it was now.

Aurora's hand tightened in his grasp and he felt the bite of her nails. Color rose high in her cheeks and her eyes narrowed. Oh, she was angry with him. How delightful. “You assume that I have interest in letting him. I don't fling myself at every man I see wanting to give myself to him.” Oh, she was _very_ angry and he could feel the tension vibrating through her body. She was going to slap him if he kept talking and he was surprised to realize that was _exactly_ what he wanted. “You're drunk.”

“And you consume me, you bloody siren,” Killian whispered fiercely, more to himself than to her, but the message was loud and clear.

The admission came unbidden and the color drained from Aurora's face. There was no taking that back now. He didn't look away, didn't pull away. He kept them twirling through the crowd as the song changed and his hand moved from her waist to the small of her back.

It would never be said that Aurora couldn't recover quickly. Even with her face pale she cleared her throat and shook her head. "Killian, you're drunk," she tried to explain away and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. It twisted something in his chest.

It had _hurt_.

So he lashed out. A continuously frustrating reaction to such an emotion. He lowered his mouth to her ear and he felt her shiver. "That prince of yours never got drunk, did he? Never told you what spell you put over a body." Aurora was stiff as they moved, her skin flushed but he wasn't fooled. It wasn't with desire. It was anger. Her nails were digging into his hand and he relished in the bite of pain. "I may have a code but I am a _man_ , 'Rora and I want you even if you're still cold and shut off. I see you pretend. I see how hollow your eyes are.” The way she placated the doctor, her laughter that carried. How no one else could see its lack in genuine joy was beyond him and it stabbed at him every time. “I could steal you away. We could go and you could live again.” Killian lifted his head to look at Aurora and their noses brushed. Her eyes were luminous and damp, sparkling in the light of the ballroom and she looked stricken. “Let me kiss you awake, princess."

For a moment they stopped amid the revelry and couples twirled around them while they stood right in the middle of them all, frozen. It didn't matter if he was drunk, it didn't make what he told her any less genuine. Aurora stared up at him and her eyes were what gave her away. Round and wide she looked at him, pearly pink lips parted in surprise. She wasn’t saying anything. She was just staring up at him and they weren’t moving, they were just standing there amid the dancers who were starting to notice. His neck flushed. He could feel the heat rising up and he gritted his teeth but didn’t move his eyes from her. “Aurora,” he began.

She slapped him.

They were standing in the middle of the dance floor and the ones closest to them were starting to stare. He wanted to turn a glare on them all, demand to know what they were looking at but he knew it was him. Aurora had slapped him and her steely eyes were wet with unshed tears and she stepped closer to him and he inhaled the smell of her perfume.

“It’s my _birthday_ , Killian,” she whispered and the words hung in the air for a terrifying moment before she whirled away in a cloud of purple and white and vanished into the crowd. He was left standing there, humiliation and pain.

 _What had he done?_.

“Get out of my way,” he snarled and forced his way in the opposite direction.

 _It’s my birthday, Killian_.

 

 

She wasn’t crying. Her lip did not tremble. Her hand, however, stung from the slap.

Aurora had ignored Snow White’s calls and ignored the scandalized whispering. Some things didn’t change no matter where you were and gossip was at the top of the list and there was already so much gossip about her and Killian that people thought she was unaware of. She didn’t care if it was juvenile of her; Aurora locked herself in the room she’d been given and refused to open it for anyone. Not Snow who pleaded and threatened to have Killian thrown in the dungeon. Not Ruby who offered to bite his head off (which wasn’t a serious offer, Aurora knew but she had appreciated it just the same).

At first she wondered exactly why she had allowed herself to give into such selfish endeavor, allowing the tears to come and throwing every fiber of her being into it. It wasn’t like her. She was compassionate, yes. She was empathetic and worrisome but Aurora was not one who gave into tears easily. Yet there she was locked in her room like a child. Had Killian’s words really affected her so much?

_And you consume me, you bloody siren._

A fresh wave of tears caught in her throat and she turned on her back to look at the canopy. Everything he said tripped through her head. She’d been so caught off guard -- how was she meant to have expected _any_ of what he said. Perhaps that was a reason she was so upset. Aurora hated to be caught unawares and unprepared. She should have noticed. She should have picked up  
on it.

 _What are you upset about more, Aurora? That you didn’t notice or that you feel the same way?_ Aurora’s eyes burned and she pressed her knuckles to her mouth to muffle the strangled sound she made, even if no one was around to hear her.

 _Let me kiss you awake, princess_.

She had wanted him to. Gods, had she wanted him to even when she wanted to hit him. Aurora looked down at her hand and the red of the beard burn stark on her pale skin. She waggled her fingers and they still tingled. How hard had she slapped him anyway? She had just swung with all her might and above the sound of the orchestra she could hear the sound her hand made against his cheek. Everyone had been staring. Aurora could feel the delayed burn of humiliation in her cheeks and she fell back on the bed and pressed her face into the downy pillow.

Her tears eventually subsided and so Aurora lay curled on her bed and watched the sun rise through the open balcony door. It was always fascinating to watch the sky lighten from the dark blue of night to beautiful purple before pink bled across the horizon and the birds began to sing. Her eyes itched and the skin felt raw from the tears she had shed and still she could not find sleep. Not that slumber ever came easy for her, not since waking up from her cursed sleep. Aurora supposed that’s what happened when you slept for nearly thirty years.

_Let me kiss you awake..._

 

 

 

Even with a room at the castle for him (like all advisors), Killian stormed out of the great hall and straight out of the castle. He couldn’t ignore all the stares that followed him but no one approached him, which made not acknowledging them easier. The taverns were packed in the village but even if they weren’t, he had no desire to be around any more people. People who thought they were above a pirate.

 _You just like to think they’re all better than you_ a wicked voice sneered in his head. It only served to fuel his frustration and he stormed the gangplank with such ferocity that the crew lounging on board were startled from their games.

“Mr Smee!” he roared, pulling off his coat and throwing it at the portly man. “I am not to be disturbed.”

The crew had long grown used to their captain’s tendency to dark humor. They would stay out of his way no matter what sounds came from his cabin, whatever broke, whatever was thrown, whatever he yelled.

_Killian, you’re drunk_

_It’s my **birthday**_

The look on her face was burned in his mind. Not the way her eyes glinted in anger or the flush that crept on her cheeks. It was Aurora’s shock that haunted him; her blue eyes round and wide, the brightest blue as they clouded with tears and Aurora was not prone to tears. Sadness, yes -- empathetic bouts that threatened to overwhelm her careful facades to the point of breaking. They were more common when they’d first met, when her emotions were bubbling under the surface with wants of vengeance and fear at her lost love and this strange new world they all lived in.

Killian watched. He watched the days tick by while she picked up the pieces, as she drew little shards of herself together and stitched it all back until all those bits of life were bundled up tight. Control. So much control until, he thought, she was the way she had been before everything was ripped away. Killian hated it. He knew she hated it and it had turned into a game. He had done everything he could to peel those layers back and search for signs of life, signs of that sweet, naïve little princess who was so very out of her element. He had been forced to make himself content with chuckles and exasperated looks that were quickly gone.

All he wanted to do was grab her by the shoulders and shake sense into her. She didn’t have to be Emma or Mulan to be strong. No one strong would go through hell as she had done with her head held high and befriend a bitter pirate captain with no heart.

He’d even stayed to join that stupid advisory council for her. David had offered the position, yes, but it had been Aurora’s soft question of what he was going to do after it was all said and done that had made him take the offered place.

Killian was besotted. Consumed. Entranced.

With a pained roar, he threw the bottle of brandy at the door and watched it shatter. Liquor stained the wood and dripped down like rain against glass and still it wasn’t enough. The glint of his reflection caught his eye and Killian turned to look at the mirror across the room. An ornate thing set in gold that he couldn’t remember for the life of him where he’d found it.

He approached it, boots thumping on the floor and he took in the state of him. His pupils dilated from drink, pain twisting his features into an ugly mask. He could see how red his cheek was. A perfect little red handprint. He could still feel the sting of the slap and he touched his cheek with a mechanical finger.

He had deserved it. By the gods, he’d deserved it. How he could’ve spoken to her like that? Come to her like this with wine on his breath and jealousy guiding his actions? Killian felt sick with shame and for a moment he wanted to shatter that mirror and erase that sight but it was too late. There were never any take backs and everything came to bite back in the end, did it not? His mechanical hand whirred as if in reminder of what had he lost and he looked at the clenched fist.

It hurt so much because he had meant it. He felt what he had said in his bones.

In the end, he didn’t break the mirror. It wasn’t the mirror’s fault for showing him what he didn’t want to admit. Killian collapsed back on his bed and look at the ceiling with a sigh. “Old. Alone. Done for,” he murmured. His only company was the clockwork whir of his hand.

 

 

 

The Prancing Bear was a rather deceptive name considering the clientele it tended to cater too. Tucked back just off the main road it was run down and dreary but alive with the raucous laughter and sounds of crashing tables that constantly spilled out the doors and windows. For all the chaos and distractions, it was a prime place to conduct meetings not worth notice and it was there that Tom went to that night.

He could barely hear anything over the loud horn pipes and fiddles. Men roared and women laughed and he kept to the outside of the room and worked his way over to the stairs that led up to the rooms upstairs. The stairs were half rotted and creaky, the stairwell narrow and dimly lit and it was with some effort he made the journey to the third floor, where the music was less of a blaring noise and became a more easily ignored din. The room was at the end of the corridor and after looking over his shoulder to be sure he hadn’t been followed; he rapped his gnarled knuckles on the rough wood.

The door creaked open and a reedy, pockmarked man stood in the doorway. His skin was sallow and yellow with scurvy, his eyes black like pools of ink and he felt himself taken aback. The decades, nay centuries in Neverland had made it difficult to remember how hideous sailors could be. Tom had long become used to the dirty faces of children and the tanned skin of the natives to remember what scurvy and rotted teeth looked like. He made a move to enter the room but the man who answered the door snarled.

“Password?” came a voice from within the shadowed room. He gave a start, not expecting that. Blast, what was that password?

“T-the sky is, uh, bruised blue?” Tom tried, hoping those were the right words to the odd password he’d be told and his eyes darted to the shadows and back to the scurvied man all but growling at him. His hands shook inside his cloak in the charged silence.

“He’s fine, Os, let him in.” Tom shuffled into the room and Os shut the door and stood in front of it, blocking the only means of possible exit. “Please, have a seat. I have been told you have a proposition for me.” The chair creaked as he sat and even with only the table separating them, the lamplight did little to illuminate the other man’s face. It did little to settle his nerves. A glance back at Os he took a deep breath and pulled out a roll of parchment from his cloak and slid it over.

“It’s my understanding that your captain is not entirely fond of Captain Hook and I’m willing to broker trade with your captain to remedy the situation.”

While his own chair creaked, the contact moved silently as he took the roll of parchment and drew it into the darkness with him. Tom listened to the rustle of paper.

“Mutiny? You’d ask my captain to assist in your mutiny? Haven’t you anyone else to help you?”

Tom licked his lips. “I’ve seen what happens when my captain decides to take on a woman. It leads to limbs being cut off and three hundred years of vengeance. This one? He’s a fool for. Joining the Royal Council. What’s going to become of us? He thinks of nothing but himself and he’s gone too far!”

The chuckle cut him short and it sent a snake of fear down his spine. “Is that really all? You waste my time because you’re jealous that daddy has decided to settle with some tavern whore?”

“That’s the problem. Last time it ended up being the wife of the Dark One. This time it’s Princess Aurora.”

The chuckling stopped and it felt like the air was being sucked out of the room. “The Ishtarin princess? Princess Aurora of the Sands who was cursed to sleep for a century?”

“The very one,” he swore. “Hook wants to hang up his sails and become some nobleman and all it’s going to do is get Maleficent on our tails this time and I’m not dying for some desert girl.”

An arm suddenly shot out from the shadows and grabbed Tom by his collar, dragging him dangerously close to the candle. He could feel the heat licking at the soft underside of his chin; smell the scent of burning hair as it singed his beard. This close he could almost make out the man's features. Bearded, only lightly, one dark eye catching the light while the rest of his face remained in darkness. Tom could make out a flash of gold and he arched his neck in an effort to stay away from the flames.

"The Sleeping Beauty is one of the most coveted treasures of a dead empire," the man murmured and it felt like ropes hooking around his neck at the tone of that voice. "She is _not_ just some desert girl."

The grip loosened and he rocked back gasping in his creaking chair and he felt it lurch, threatening to break. There was a rustling sound and a scarred, tattooed hand slid a pouch across the table before the hand drew back into the dark. "Our ship leaves by Thursday when the moon is high over the Rock. Bring her then and you will have your desires. We compensate well, I assure you."

Tom looked down at the little sack and took it with a trembling hand and tucked it inside his vest. "Thursday at the Rock. I'll be there with her."


	2. Chapter 2

Aurora sat in her office looking over the reports that had been given to her. Reorganizing a destroyed land, making sure everyone was taken care of and that everyone had what they needed to rebuild, was a large and tiresome effort.

It was distracting and that’s what Aurora desperately needed.

Yet in the middle of reading a missive from the east, she found herself staring out at the mountains, the parchment wrinkling in her hands. She was done crying, Aurora didn’t think she could waste any more tears.

 _Tears are for the weak, Aurora_ her mother would say. _Strength shows no tears_.

She caught her lip between her teeth, chewing absently as was habit of hers. Queen Talia, her dear mother, had been an inspiration, someone she wanted to be like. The perfect queen. She’d never seen her mother shed a tear, never, and surely that was strength a queen should have, was it not? She did not see Snow White burst into tears and lock herself in a room after a quarrel with her husband. Emma and Mulan? They were stoic and fierce.

Aurora shut her eyes for a moment before looking back at the letter in hand. Her birthday had happened. It had past. It was all in the past and she could only move on from it. Move on.

_Let me kiss you awake_

“Insufferable,” she hissed, crumpling the letter. “Infuriating. Uncouth scoundrel!”

“Uncouth scoundrel? That’s awfully specific.”

Aurora spun, her deep blue skirt whispering around her ankles and she saw Snow White in the door, still in breeches and riding coat. The older woman looked at her wryly and pointedly at the crumpled parchment. “I hope that wasn’t anything important.”

She blinked and looked down at her hands. “Oh, this... no, it’s fine. No harm done.” Snow nodded and moved to sit on the edge of the desk. Aurora wondered when the queen would come to her and she steeled herself for whatever was to be said.

“Have you heard from the ‘uncouth scoundrel’ lately?”

Well, that certainly wasn’t what she expected. Aurora went over to the desk and picked up one of the glass orbs she used as paperweights. “I’ve never done something like that before,” she admitted. “I do apologize--” Snow stopped her with a finger to her mouth like a mother to their child.

“I’d rather see you get upset about something instead of you squaring your shoulders all the time,” Snow said. “You keep bottling things up. I’ve noticed that lately. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it, it just doesn’t seem very like you.” The queen was quiet, playing with one of the curls that rested on Aurora’s shoulder rather fondly. “It was more than just what he said, for that kind of reaction. I get it, and there’s nothing to apologize for.”

It was a continuing marvel how intuitive the queen was and how she didn’t pull any punches and for someone who had grown up in a very different environment, it was just another thing that had Aurora feeling out of her element. She bit her lip, rubbing her thumb over a colored swirl on the paperweight. “If I don’t keep my chin up, I fear the sky will crash down all around me,” she said quietly.

“You care for him, don’t you?” Aurora nearly dropped the paperweight and she looked at Snow White and wished she was able to control her surprise. Snow did not look surprised at the reaction, just knowing and Aurora wasn’t sure how she should feel about that. Snow White always seemed to know everything, some innate ability that she had like Emma’s ability to tell when people lied. “That’s what has everything turning upside down, isn’t it?”

“He just said some things and it caught me by surprise, that’s all,” she said lightly and the denial was clear, writing on the wall to them both. “He was drunk.”

“Mmmm, drunk men do stupid things. Drunk women do stupid things. People in general do stupid things when they’re drunk. Are you sure you don’t me to throw him in a dungeon?”

The earnest look on Snow’s face actually got a smile out of Aurora but she shook her head. “I like to think that he’s doing his own punishment and he feels bad about things.” Snow didn’t look like she exactly believed that course of action would work but Aurora thought he might. “Killian isn’t cruel, not by nature and he’s never cruel to me. Pirate or not, he’s a better man than he thinks he is, or pretends to be. No matter how many times he’s proven himself, he’ll never admit it.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.” Snow White sighed heavily and reached into her vest and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. “Here.” Aurora looked at the paper and took it curiously. “It was just one of the couriers. No one I recognized.”

It was a short note, hastily scribbled. The writing wasn’t familiar but the location was. “Sorry about your birthday. Let’s try again. Moonrise on the _Roger_.” Aurora looked up at Snow with what was probably meant to be a smirky smile but Aurora always looked too sweet and it didn’t come off as one. “See? I knew he would feel guilty.”

“I don’t know if I want you going alone...” Snow started to protest but Aurora would have none of it.

“It’ll be fine. The ship is docked and Mr Smee won’t let him sail away with me.” Aurora folded the letter back up and tucked it in a drawer. “I can’t wait to see how he’ll grovel.”

Snow White chuckled and shook her head. Sighing she turned to the door but stopped, pinning Aurora with a look. “Phillip wouldn’t want you to live a life of sadness, Aurora. He wouldn’t want you to be alone.” 

It stunned the younger woman into silence and she could only look at Snow White as she left the room.

 

 

"And then – then she hits me in the face with a rock!" Killian snorted into his cups as David flailed his arms about. "And there I'm just standing there yelling after her while she rides off with my horse. _I will find you! Ahhh!_ because of course she just absolutely kicked my ass."

" _But_ ," Killian pointed out with his half empty cup. "She underestimated you."

David slapped the table and clinked his cup to Killian's. "Damn straight she underestimated me. Well, I continued to underestimate her.” The King tossed back the rest of his beer and grabbed another bottle to crack open. The two men had long since retreated to the castle kitchens, sitting in a corner with the cook keeping a watchful, disapproving eye on the two of them.

Killian was not particularly fond of the Misses Potts but the last time he’d pulled David out for a night of drinking, well... It was the first and last time that had happened, given that there had been a rather spectacular brawl and Snow White had shown up with Emma at the tavern as the two of them had been getting their heads dunked in the watering trough by the pair of gentlemen they’d been playing cards with.

Killian took the bottle from David to top off his own mug. “Women are bloody insane,” he muttered sourly before he took another long draught. “You know, your wife keeps giving me all these threatening looks? What have I ever done to deserve that? It’s like she doesn’t trust me.”

“Of course she doesn’t trust you. You’re -- what did I hear earlier today?” David looked completely innocent over the rim of his cup. “Uncouth scoundrel.”

The pirate looked offended. “Uncouth _scoundrel_?” he asked incredulously, only the slightest slur to his words. “ _Uncouth_ scoundrel? Never heard that before.” He frowned with disheartenment. “Ruffian and insufferable and frustrating I’ve heard but uncouth scoundrel?” Blue eyes narrowed he pinned David with a look. “Now who would go and call me that? That doesn’t sound like your queen or your princess.”

“Oh, you know how bluebirds talk.”

“I bet it was that Blue Fairy. She doesn’t like me around those girls of hers.”

David gave him a look that was quite similar to the ones that Emma tended to give him and it was always a bit unnerving. “No one likes you around their girls.”

“You wound me, mate! I am a damn bastion of integrity. Did I not ensure Emma and Snow White’s survival back to that infernal place? Was I not the most perfect gentleman?” That he was and he smirked at David as the man began laughing into his mug.

“Oh that! That is,” but David trailed off amidst --

“Are you _snorting_?” Which only caused David to snort even more and the two of them fell into a fit of laughter rather unlike a pirate and a king. Killian’s shoulders shook as he too began to snort into his cups and eventually he laid his forehead on the scarred up table, pounding it with a fist as he tried to get a hold of his laughter. Their guffaws began to calm but then Misses Potts muttered something about ‘silly boys’ from where she was working on the next day’s items and David snorted loudly. Thus the laughter began again.

 

 

The moon was only beginning to rise when Aurora left the castle. She left the back way, not wanting to go where there were many people. Even in her lack of finery, the courtiers and others would recognize her immediately. She looked through her wardrobe and skipped past all her finery, choosing to don a dark skirt and and bodice that was not as restricting as her usual choices. The night was cool and the long sleeves of her blouse were more appreciated in their practicality, as was the dark cloak she wrapped around her. Outside the castle there was little chance of being recognized in this and while she didn’t have anything to hide -- didn’t have a real need to sneak out as she was, Aurora wanted to bask in the anonymity after the debacle of her birthday.

Even though it was close to the sea, the docks of Starlight Lake were not expensive by any means, the only real transport being a few barges and, of course, the _Jolly Roger_ , which Killian wouldn’t leave even if the coast wasn’t all that far away. She passed the tavern on her way in, the raucous laughter and light spilling into the street and Aurora caught sight of Mr Smee singing drunkenly. Well, that was interesting. Killian and her would be alone on the ship, wouldn’t they?

“You like him, don’t you?” Snow asked the question, but Aurora was still unsure of her answer. 

Killian Jones was a scoundrel, the very kind of man her mother told her to be wary of, but she couldn’t bring herself to doubt him any longer. Killian was the first person to see her. To understand what her sacrifice was like and respect it. Yes, he did tease her and frustrated her to wit’s end, yet Aurora saw that he was a genuine man at heart, regardless of what others thought. He wasn’t outwardly a kind or compassionate man, a pirate captain still had a reputation to keep, she mused, but he tried to do all he could. 

Like the children who ran wild through the docks, who snuck away from their parents to play. He didn’t ignore them. Instead Killian would send them on errands. The Foster boys to help the baker with her deliveries. The twin girls from the tailor shop to help old Mrs Havers with her garden. The children were both drawn to and afraid of the pirate and he was surprisingly good with the children, running them no different than ship hands. He was still this fearsome man but then they’d find bags of toffee in their letterboxes and come back again they would.

It kept the children from getting hurt and helped the ones who needed it most. Aurora had stumbled upon the endeavor when little Tommy Foster brought her buttercakes and told her that Mr Jones was putting them all to work and then Killian showed up sheepishly in the night and made her promise not to tell. He had a reputation to maintain after all.

Stupid, frustrating man.

With Phillip it had been so easy, she reflected as she stepped through the alleys down towards the docks. With Phillip it had all been laid out beforehand. They would be married when she turned eighteen. Their summers until then would be spent together and while at first it was strange, trying to befriend the boy that you would eventually marry, they had become friends. It had been a simple love, between them, that first youthful warming of one’s heart when there were no other options. An innocent thing bourne of the innocence of youth.

Yet with Killian... With Killian it was a decision made on her own. It was something she found when she was trying to find herself in the strange broken world after the curse. She wasn’t the same girl, she knew that in more ways than one. Would Phillip have been able to love the girl she had become?

 _You’re so cold now, princess_ it seemed everyone kept saying that and yet even if she’d become cold, Killian warmed her, lighting a fire inside her that she was having an increasingly difficult time to deny. He was crude and crass at time, despite his insistence that he was a gentleman with manners. The way he teased her as if they were children and he made fun of her dolls and tugged on her curls. Not literally, of course, but he pushed her buttons, insinuating dirty things or talking in circles that made her head spin and lose her temper and hit his shoulder. And he would pretend she’d actually injured him and walk away laughing as she seethed. 

_”It’s a birthday, not some state affair. Birthdays are supposed to be fun, not about traipsing around making sure we don’t all kill each other because everything’s gone to hell.”_

_Aurora looked up at Killian with a shrewd look where he sat across the round table in the council meeting, lips thin and pressed together. “That’s ridiculous. My grandparents didn’t invite certain fairies to her christening and she ended up cursed to sleep for a hundred years. If we don’t invite everyone, who knows what will happen.”_

_“And that’s why I should just take you down to the tavern and get you so drunk on mead you won’t even know your own name instead of risking ‘offending’ the wrong person.” Killian grinned at her in what she was sure he thought was a charming and winning manner. “You could let your hair down and we can see where the night takes us.”_

Aurora had felt pleased with herself when she was able to stomp on his foot on the way out. Childish? Yes, but the effeminate yelp he let out made up for her lack of decorum. 

She hurried the rest of the way down the path to the docks. The _Jolly Roger_ was only lightly lit by a few lanterns on the main deck and she could see a figure standing on the gangplank. At first she thought it was Killian but as she drew closer she saw that it was the burly quartermaster, Tom. “Mr Smee have the night off?” she asked with a smile.

Tom gave her a bit of a grin along with a bit of a bow, even if time and again Aurora had asked the crew not to. “He works hard enough, thought I could let him loosen up a bit.” Tom gestured up the gangplank. “Cap’n’s on his way. He said he had a few last minute things to get and wanted me to assure you that you’re to make yourself quite comfortable, milady.”

Aurora gave him a small smile over her shoulder as the two of them headed up on deck. “Well, I’ll just let myself in then, shall I?” At Tom’s nod, Aurora headed into the Captain’s quarters, biting her lip at the sight. The lanterns were lit, giving the room a soft glow and the table usually reserved for Killian’s maps had been cleared off and held food. A bowl overflowing with fruit, plates set out for two, and a chilling wine glass. Aurora’s stomach growled at the sight and she realized she hadn’t eaten that day and the sudden parchness she felt had her reaching for the uncorked wine bottle. The oddity of that was lost on her when all she wanted to do was have a nice drink and she poured herself a glass. “He won’t mind,” she murmured. 

Swirling the wine in her glass out of habit, she felt eyes on her. She looked over her shoulder as she sipped, seeing Tom standing in the doorway, watching her. How strange. “What’s the matter?” she asked and there was a strange tingling in her lips and mouth. Distracted, she licked the wine off her lips and looked in the glass but saw nothing strange. The feeling intensified but it spread as she felt the wine warm it’s way down her throat. 

A path of numbing tingling radiated from the center of her, racing down her limbs. Aurora dropped the glass as her fingers slackened and stumbled back into the table, knocking the wine bottle to the floor as well. “Tom,” she slurred out, her tongue heavy and immovable. What was happening? Everything was spinning. It felt like her eyes were going numb and she grabbed at the table but then everything rushed around her and she fell.

Vision tunnelling, Aurora tried to sit up and blinked as Tom swam into her vision before everything went black.

 

 

Tom’s hands were shaking as he rowed through the dark, silent waters.

The dinghy was small and he had unceremoniously dumped Aurora at his feet. Her limp limbs were bent awkwardly but he could not bring herself to try make her more comfortable. So instead he pulled an old blanket over her and prayed to the gods that she was neither dead and would not wake up until he was long gone. He hadn’t expected the poison to work as fast as it did and Tom tried not to let it bother him.

He hummed low under his breath, a jaunty tune and tried to remind himself that he was doing this for the good of the crew. They would be rid of this princess and things would go back to being right again. It wasn’t mutiny, he repeated to himself. It was saving the captain and if he decided that he would be done with everything...Well then he’d just have to get rid of the captain now wouldn’t he? They would go back to _real_ pirating instead of this ridiculous remapping endeavor and census and whatever else the hell it was that the crown had them doing.

The Rock gleamed on the east horizon. Moonlight illuminated the damp rocks but he could see no sails, no bow of a ship or the sounds of sailors and something cold settled low in him but he pushed it aside. He pushed it away and ignored it because if he dwelled on it--

He wasn’t going to dwell on it.

A look back over his shoulder showed how far he was from the Jolly Roger and the port. He could see the dim lights of the docks but no longer could he hear the sounds of merriment. It was quiet there on the water with only the sound of the water lapping at the sides of the dinghy.

His heart stopped when he swore that he saw movement from under the blanket and he stopped rowing to listen. Nothing. He heard and saw no more movement. Just the moon, he reassured himself. Just the moon reflecting over the folds in the blanket.

For as strong as he was, it took him near another hour to make it to the little cove inside the rock. In the dark it was nearly impossible to find the hole in the outcropping and Tom dared not light the lantern attached to the bow. He hugged the rock close as he rowed and nearly missed the opening, so covered in moss and vines it was. The passage was low and lit with an unearthly blue glow from the moon reflecting from water to the glittering rocks inside.

It felt like more hours had passed when he reached the other side and the boat drifted through another curtain of vine and moss. The moon was brilliant on this side of the rock, unimpeded by the outcropping. He could see a little stretch beach. There was no ship to be seen, but there were figures waiting on the sand. The moon was so bright and Tom rowed further in until he reached the shallows. Two of the three men waded over to pull the boat up the sand and Tom looked at the man waiting.

“I’ve brought her, just as promised,” Tom said with only the slightest shake to his voice. Dammit he needed to stop with that. He watched the man come over to peer into the front of the boat. None had spoken, not yet, but he felt that the man was familiar. The outline of him maybe, but Tom couldn't place it. The man, the superior one Tom supposed, reached down and pulled back the blanket to reveal the motionless princess. Moonlight turned her a sickly pale color and her honeyed hair glinted gold in contrast. She was breathing -- Tom could see the rise and fall of her chest, slow as it was. He allowed himself a moment of relief.

"Very good," the man said thoughtfully and that voice. Tom knew that voice. The same man from the tavern. Something about this wasn't right. "Here."

Tom looked at the bag held out to him, hearing the jingle of coins as the man shook the parcel and Tom snatched it before he could lose his nerve. The man laughed and gestured to one of his men to pull the princess from the bottom of the boat, hoisting the light body over a shoulder.

Nodding to the other two men he gestured back. "Take her to the ship." In the meantime, Tom tugged the bag of coin open and peered inside. Moonlight caught the silver inside and he looked up, confused. "This was meant to be gold."

His contact sneered with a gold-glinted smirk. "Oh no, I think silver is more than appropriate for mutineers, don't you agree?" The way he said it unnerved Tom and he gripped the bag of silver a little tighter. "A little bird tells me I might run into a spot of trouble here, with the girl."

"My captain knows nothing of you, I swear," but the man was coming towards him and Tom stumbled back into the boat, hitting the back seat hard. He looked up as the man loomed over him. It was worse than it was back in the tavern even if it shouldn't have been. Being able to see the man's face should've made him less frightening but instead it made it worse, for Tom could see every inch of his face, every sign to his lack of mercy.

"Mutiny. Such an ugly act. So without honor," he mused and Tom was frozen as the man's hand came to cup his face, thumb swiping over his eyebrow. "You should be marked for it."

Tom could only scream.

 

 

“She hates me.”

David began to cut another piece of peach pie before giving up and deciding to just stab at it with his fork. “Aurora doesn’t hate you, you just have a tendency to act like a jackass and put your foot in your mouth.”

Blue eyes glinted in annoyance and Killian followed David’s example with the pie. Living on a ship most of the time meant that simple pleasures like fresh fruit pie were a rarity and he wasn’t going to let the king hoard it. “I was taking your advice.”

“Don’t blame me for acting like an asshat.”

“ _Asshat_?” He was going to say more but David pointed a fork at him for his silence.

“You are in love with her, whether or want to admit that or not, but if you don’t man up and admit it to her, you’re going to lose her and trust me, it’s the worst feeling in the world.” Killian was silent as he took it in. He scowled down in his mug, frustration etched in his dark features.

“She deserves someone more than just a pirate. She deserves all of this. Castle, gold, jewels, servants at her beck and call. Not a ship and a band of rowdy men and sailing the seas.” His voice was low even if it was only the two of them now but Killian felt like saying the words any louder would just twist the knife even more. The man sighed and leaned precariously back in his chair with the wall to brace him so he could kick his feet up. “She deserves a man with title.”

David raised an eyebrow in confusion. “You are ‘titled’, remember? You’re a member of the Great Council.”

“And trusted advisor to the King and Queen,” Killian finished for him. “No, it’s not the same. ‘Rora’s a princess. Or Queen, I don’t know how that whole thing is meant to work. The point is that she’s too bloody good for me. I have nothing to give her.”

“I don’t think she’s that type of girl,” David started but was interrupted this time by the kitchen doors bursting open and guards pouring in. Killian and David looked up in alarm as the knights stopped suddenly, staring at the two of them. Killian’s chair lowered to the floor slowly and David stood, swaying slightly. “What is it?” The worried but demanding note in David’s tone along with the pale faces of the guard were enough to start pulling the edges of sobriety.

The captain of the guard looked from the king to Killian and it was there he held his look and it was enough to make Killian uncomfortable. “I didn’t do it!” he said automatically, figuring that it best to get that out of the way. Still though, the captain looked horrified.

“But Majesty... your Excellency.” His voice was practically panicked; a strange tone Killian had never heard before and he rose shakily to his feet. “The Princess Aurora was said to be meeting his Excellency on his ship this night.”

Confusion was evident on Killian’s face and he looked at David in bewilderment. The king looked just as confused. “We’ve both been down here since nightfall,” Killian said in an oddly strangled tone that was wholly unlike him. “I haven’t seen Aurora in days.” Which was a lie. He had seen her, they just hadn’t spoken but that wasn’t the point. He couldn’t move, he was just frozen, stupefied. “What’s happened?”

The answer was barely out of the man’s mouth before Killian was kicking the chair out of his way and pushing past the guards. He took the kitchen steps three at a time, long legs pumping furiously as he made his way up to the apartments. His heart hadn’t pounded this heard in as long as he could remember. Blood rushed in his ears, Aurora’s face burned behind his eyelids as he skidded to a stop in the hall.

Snow White was standing there, robe clutched around her talking with one of the guards and he must’ve been louder than he realized because both looked at him in alarm, the guard’s hand going to his sword but they froze when they recognized him. The bells rang then, signaling the early morning hour and Snow White took a step forward.

“Killian...” She was gripping something in her hand and he recalled them saying that Aurora was supposed to be meeting him when nothing of the sort was ever arranged.

Amidst the stark horror and helplessness of the initial realization, cold chased away the heat and a calm fury settled into his bones.


End file.
